Immortal
by emo barbie
Summary: Warricks thoughts about Nick's: Grave Danger. And Nick's thoughts after Warrick's death. Warning: Warrick/Nick


Title: Immortal  
Summary: There both one-person views: the first it Warrick on Nick's captation under ground and the second it Nick after Warrick's death and how he delt with it.  
Disclamer: I own neither CSI or it's characters, I merrly love typing sudden ideas that come into my head.

The idea for this fanfic was contributed by alexandracf and her youtube video: grave danger: Immortal thanxs from Brittneys mind

Sorry if it seems a bit songfic ish the song was just too well written to leave it out.

* * *

_Warrick:_

It was a feeling of complete loss, that was all I felt as I watched Nick on that screen. The gun held up to his throat by his own hands , the trigger being pulled, the lights going out. That moment was burned into my memory, his face haunted my dreams, no they were the farthest thing from dreams, they couldn't even be called Nightmares...

I had always been there for Nick, always, I had been there when he cried almost every night, I had been there to wipe away those tears that rolled down his cheeks. But when he was in that box, the only thing I could do was to grip the table, I gripped it so hard I was pretty sure, my hand prints are still embedded in that wood, forever memorizing that moment in reality.

Maybe it was just me, Maybe I was the only one who was affected so much, maybe it was because I was always there for him, all those times when he screamed at night after those horrible nights of being stalked, I was always there to scare those fears away, I was always there...through all those years of working together it had been me who had held his hand.

When ever they had opened that box, I hadn't cared about the tones of Dynamite beneath him, hell I would have killed myself to hold him in my arms. No what held me back was that I would kill Nicky too, and all this searching and pain and sorrow, would be a waste, cause in the end, he would have ended up the same anyway.

It really got to me that Grissom was the one who was there for him, was the one who had calmed him down in the box, cause in truth, that was my job, it was what I had_ always _done, and the time that Nick really needed me to be there, Grissom was there instead. But I was sure to be the first one into that ambulance, and in the end he still held on to me, and all that while all that I could think of was something that Grissom had said to me when I had first started working on the field:

"It seems to be the very intense moments, when things are going wonderfully well or terribly wrong, that give us the sharpest images of the people we know. Alot of what we remember of people comes from those specific moments that are vivid in our minds because of what we discover about those people's pain or kindness or fear...or even courage. In moments like these, people show us they are and who we...may become."

And all I could think of was how right he was...

-  
_Nick:_

He had always been there for me...always, when I was thrown through that window, when I had been stalked by the one guy, even when I was rescued from that box...he had always been there. It was what I loved about him. The way he kissed my tears from my eyes or how he could shush my sobs away as he rocked me back and fourth holding me like I was some kind of fragile glass doll. It was what I had fell in love with...

So when I had heard the news, I didn't believe it, because I had never once thought that he would be taken from me, never, but in the end...he was.

I'm so god damn tired of this life...these memories that won't leave me alone...these wounds that just won't see to heal, and this pain...it just seems so...real. I remembered getting to the scene, I had heard about a fellow CSI being shot and killed, and the first thing I had thought was Greg, that one of those stupid gang members had finally hunted him down, that was what I had expected to see when I had came to the scene. What I hadn't expected was the car, that familiar car, the car that so many nights I had spent with Warrick, just us...and now that car was taped off, and sitting in the drivers seat was the one man I loved.

It didn't know what to do, mind went blank, and I guess I probably did what every other family member does...I tried to race to the car, screaming as I did so, but I was held back by a strong force, the force that I would later recognize as the tight hold of two officers. But at that moment I didn't care, I was too focused on the stiff body that was before me. My knees gave way, and I remembered the sharp pang of pain in my knees, but it was quickly consumed by my agony, and I tried tearing at the bond that was holding me back, but never could I fully break free, for every time I did, the force became stronger and stronger, until Finally I couldn't move at all...

I remember finally seeing the people around me, the first face that came into my focus was the person that stood before me...

"Nick, Nick!" Grissom...

I remember letting out a loud howl before collapsing, the officers releasing their hold as I fell into Grissom, who readily expected me, wrapping his arms around my body...That was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out...

I spent as much time as I could alone in our room, trying to empty my mind of every thought, to forget where I was, and even who I was...

Catherine had come by once or twice a week to check on me, she tried talking to me, trying to get me to respond, to talk to her...but in the end my misery was too deep to speak anymore, all I could do was sit in that darkness and think...and think...and think...

And now after all this time, after months and months of therapy and counseling, after years of isolation, the pains still there, and every time I close my eyes I see his face...that last smile he gave me before leaving that shop, and to think, that I could have stopped him, I could have went with him...but instead I had stayed to chat with that girl...it wasn't like I was trying to cheat with Warrick, Warrick knew what I was doing, hell, it had been his idea. Warrick had always saw our relationship ending, though I never could, maybe Warrick had some idea that he would die...but Warrick had tried to get me to talk to women more freely...but in the end, it was all a waste of time...time that I could have been spending with Warrick...

Every morning I would wake up, everything I had been thinking before...forgotten, it was hard to remember in the heady and sensual clarity of the morning; I forgot whom I hated and who hated me. I wanted to break out crying from stabs of hopeless joy, or intolerable promise, or becuase these mornings were too full of beauty for me, because I knew of too much pain and hate to be contained in a world like this.

And in the end, I wish, just really wish that when someone died they took with them everything, I wish their weren't these stupid things called memories, his presence that still lingers here...I'm just tried of being here...I'm just tired of all these things that haunt me...because in the end, there's just these things...that time can't erase, and even though I keep telling myself that he's still here...I still feel so..._alone. _


End file.
